The Emperor and The Dragon

The Worry

Long ago, The Emperor tapped his pen against his mahogany desk.

His soft,  pink hair was mess. Even though the red ribbon that held his hair neatly, the amount of times he had gripped onto his hair as he chewed on his lip anxiously destroyed his perfect hair-do.

Yesterday, his urge to rip apart the bamboo screen was strong. Not because he wanted to see her. But he wanted to see if it was her.
The Musician behind the screen still used the same instrument as those past months ago, but the strumming, the melody, the calming hums that would always make him relax his tense and tired muscles-

It wasn't the same. It was funny, as if he could sense through the music that one behind the screen was not his Musician.

As the music played, the poor Emperor crumpled the paper he was writing on.
"If this goes on the next day", Nei-Yon seethes, as he massages his head, "I will..."  "Rip that screen to sheds." He says too loudly.
Realizing his blunder, the Emperor blushed in embarrassment, as he slaps a hand to his reddened face.

A small giggle resonated from behind the screen, before the music that had momentarily paused, resumed.

The Emperor sighed, deciding to bring life to his plans that he had insinuated, to-morrow.

The Emperor sat down on his seat. Both hoping and praying that  the Musician from yesterday with the odd music would be behind the screen, so that he could open the screen and demand for his real Musician.
It would be a great excuse to see her face then.
The plan was absolutely flawless! As expected from the Emperor.

As he heard the shuffling from behind the bamboo screen across the room. Music began to play.

As the strumming continued, his shoulders drooped in half disappointment, half joy.

The music and the familiar strumming that made him calm, this. This was the tune of his Musician.

She was back.

Whoever tried to pose as her yesterday, was surely not her.

Though his plans had failed, his thirst for answers and his temptation to see his Musician's face was stronger than it ever was before.

Nei-Yon leaves his plush seat, and silently walks towards the bamboo screen.

His steps slow, and careful not to alert the person on the other side. To keep the Musician oblivious that the Emperor was creeping in closer and closer.

At the time, Nei-Yon couldn't find himself to figure out what he is feeling.
If he sees her face, what then?
Is it only the rumored beauty she has, was he after?
Or was it because of her answer the past few days had sparked something in the Emperor's heart?

As he reached out to touch the screen, he paused and hesitated.
When his decision was finally made, the Emperor yanks away the bamboo screen.

A suprised gasp emitted from his Musician.
The smell of strong, minty ointment filled his nostrils, making him scrunch up his nose.

"Y-Your Majesty!" She bowed down, head on the floor.

Nei-Yon's eyes trail at her beautiful white locks that ended in purples, pinks, and blues. He believed his eyes must be playing tricks on him, as her dark, sun-burnt skin glittered and glistened in the day light that seeped through the wooden windows.

Her sky-blue robes looked ethereal on her, even though he hadn't seen her face yet.
Her robes slid down to reveal her collarbones and shoulders.
His eyes narrowed at the thick bandages that covered her entire left arm.
A green-like goo that smelled strongly of mint and now, ginger, emitted from it, as it seeped through her yellowing bandages.

He finally notices his Musician was slightly trembling in fear.
Her thoughts must have been on to why the Emperor was facing her now. Did she somehow displease him with her tune—

"It was not you who played yesterday....am I right?" He inquired.

The woman looked up to meet his eyes, and Nei-Yon could feel his own soul leap out of his mortal coil. Her stunning, lavender eyes stare back at his ruby-red ones.
Her beauty was unfathomable and could never be compared to any of his concubines.

She placed a hand to her chest, as she looked at him, "I will speak the truth and nothing but the truth for you, My Emperor." She swore.
"I was terribly wounded the night you have last dismissed me. A hunter mistook me for a Magician of the Earth while I was walking toward home, and struck me with his spear. While my family nursed me back to health, I could not attend to my duties as your Musician, so I sent for my closest colleague to play for you while I heal." She explains, her eyes holding nothing but sincerity.
"I know what I have done is wrong; to send someone else to pose as me for two days—I will accept any punishment seen fit for my mistake."

"I wish you would've stayed away longer to let yourself heal better." The Emperor says bluntly.
His intentions were caring, but his words and the tone of his voice made it seem like he wanted her away.

"I greatly apologize, Your Majesty." The Musician bows her head back down on the floor.

The Emperor shoved away his pride, as he knelt down to the floor. His hands hooking right beneath her chin, to raise the Musician's head.

"What is your name?" The Emperor asks.

"It is Laan-Mei, Your Grace."